Sex By Numbers
by Cassexy
Summary: Once Jiraiya Uchiha begins to suspect theft, he calls Naruto to work for him. Naruto called a female Kyuubi to work for him. In the mix, Sasuke, Jiraiya's grandson doesn't like it when they have a hot sexual relationship. But, who cares? R&R, Lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, this is my 1****st**** story on this site and I'm not sure if I'm any good, so be nice.**

**-1-**

ARE YOU SURE my breast implants aren't tax-deductible?" The blue bombshell sitting across from Kyuubi tapped her acrylic nails on the rich brown maple desk. "That exotic dancer in Indiana got hers deducted and they weren't that much bigger than mine."

Kyuubi turned away from her laptop screen, where she was reviewing Sugar's tax return. Tax season was finally wrapping up, and none too soon for a poor, worn-out accountant. "Sorry, Sugar—it'd be a long shot. The tax court is cracking down on what they regard as frivolous deductions and I doubt we could get it past them. We can write off your costumes and the tinted latex nipple makeup, but that's about it. No personal care like tanning, manicures or hair extensions."

"And we can't appeal? I only got the implants for professional reasons, you know." Sugar pursed her pink glossy lips.

Kyuubi had known her friend and client too long to fall for her act. She peered over the tops of her glasses. "And you get no personal benefits from them?"

Sugar smacked her arm playfully. "Oh, all right, you naughty girl. I didn't lose any nerve sensation from the surgery and my last boyfriend and I did enjoy them."

"Thought so." Kyuubi pushed her glasses back up her nose to focus on the computer again. "And if we make an issue over this, the IRS might want to look in to how much of your cash tips you've been reporting as income." Kyuubi wasn't a novice to IRS audits, but didn't exactly enjoy them, either.

"Hmmph." Sugar backed down, like Kyuubi thought she would. As a certified public accountant, Kyuubi couldn't take part in tax evasion in the form of under-reporting garter or G-string tips, but she had a good idea that Sugar salted away her own personal cash stash, and who could blame her? Kyuubi would do the exact same thing in the same situation.

But Kyuubi was on the straight and narrow, just taking the figures Sugar gave her and plugging them into the tax program, although sometimes she raised an eyebrow at an obviously low figure. Sugar would revise it upward without blinking.

Kyuubi added in a couple of last-minute expenses Sugar had brought over today. Sugar, not one to sit still for any period of time, paced around the small office. Her long legs took her rapidly from one terra-cotta faux-painted wall to the other, the beige Berber carpet muffling her sneaker-clad steps. Like some dancers, Sugar had foot problems and only wore high heels onstage and on dates.

Kyuubi rotated her own brown-pump-clad foot under her desk. Her shoes matched her hair, her eyes, her jacket and her skirt. She was a big brown wren in comparison to her flashier blue haired friend, but accountants couldn't exactly sport cleavage T-shirts and midthigh denim miniskirts.

Sugar stopped to eye a pair of watercolor prints of Florence, Italy. Kyuubi had never been there, but the red tile roofs matched the whole rich, Tuscan, trust-me-with-your-finances theme she wanted to emphasize. After all, accountants working in Renaissance Florence had invented double-entry bookkeeping.

Kyuubi printed the return and eyed it one last time before passing the pages to Sugar. "Read these over before I file electronically."

Sugar sat and speed-read through the papers. She looked as if she was skimming, but Kyuubi knew she was tallying every number to the penny. She finally raised her Blue head and smiled. "I suppose that's as good as it gets without writing off the breast implants."

Kyuubi shrugged, palms upward. "If you really want me to try…"

"No, I guess not. After all, pigs get fat, but hogs get slaughtered." Sugar signed the bottom page for her own records.

"That's right." Kyuubi 'd heard that saying more than once growing up in downstate Illinois. Not that there had been enough to even get slightly plump on. "Off it goes to Uncle Sam. Since you've made your quarterly payments, you don't owe any more than usual."

"Whoopee. I'll have to schedule myself at Frisky's a couple more nights to make up for it."

"If any of your clients work for the IRS, charge them double." And now that Kyuubi 's highest-earning season was almost over, she'd have to save her money to make it last as long as possible until next winter.

Sugar passed the papers to Kyuubi "By the way, Kyuubi, I recommended your accounting services to an old friend of mine."

"Oh, who?" That might help tide her over while she built her client base.

Sugar grinned. "Jiraiya Uchiha."

"Boy, when you said 'old,' you weren't kidding. I thought he croaked last fall after hot-tubbing with that dancer from Chicago Gentlemen's Club." And why on earth would Jiraiya, billionaire, need accounting services from her fledgling business?

"Alive and kicking. He's still one of her regulars, in and out of the club."

Kyuubi made a face. Jiraiya fancied himself quite the ladies' man and had the money to make it so. Sugar was Jiraiya's occasional arm candy, especially when he wanted to scare his children and grandchildren into thinking he was going to leave his money to her. He was lucky they hadn't had him declared legally incompetent and locked him up somewhere.

Sugar laughed. "Don't look at me like that. Aside from dancing for him at Frisky's, I sure never spent any time naked with him, hot tub or no."

"That's a relief." Jiraiya was older than dirt and twice as ugly. Kyuubi was glad to hear Sugar hadn't slept with the old goat.

"You're telling me. Not even all of his money would be enough. For such a financial genius, he sure wasn't thinking with the right head. Viagra, a hot tub and a previous heart attack? Why didn't he just step in front of a bus? Potentially less fatal and definitely less embarrassing."

"You know Jiraiya is incapable of embarrassment."

Sugar raised a perfectly French-manicured finger. "Personally, no. But professionally, yes. That's why your name came up." She leaned over the desk. "You absolutely cannot tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. Promise?"

Kyuubi narrowed her eyes. "I can't be party to anything illegal, you know that."

Her friend shook her head. "Not illegal—not so far."

"So far? Sugar, this doesn't sound good at all."

"It's about Jiraiya's company. He thinks one of his executives is stealing money from the trust funds."

Kyuubi gave an astonished whistle. Uchiha Brothers was the granddaddy of Chicago's financial companies, managing hundreds of millions of dollars since before the 1929 stock market crash. "It's possible, of course, but there are so many safeguards to theft. These huge companies have hundreds of people overseeing the books."

"Jiraiya grew up with those books, and he has a gut feeling they're bad. He went into the office several times to poke around and says the atmosphere is pure poison."

"Hmmm." Kyuubi turned over possibilities in her mind. "Why doesn't Jiraiya call for an audit?" mention his family's reputation. Hot-tub hijinks are one thing, but missing money is unforgivable."

Kyuubi nodded. A whiff of scandal and the company would bottom out. It had happened before to Chicago financial firms, usually involving bankruptcy, corporate dissolution and prison terms. "So what does Jiraiya think I can do? I can't exactly walk in off the street and look at the books. It would take months for a whole team of auditors to examine everything."

"He has a smaller, specific group of accounts to audit first. When I told him you'd completed a certificate in forensic accounting, his wrinkly little face just lit up. He said his representative would be in touch to get you inside for a covert audit."

"A covert audit?" Despite her misgivings, Kyuubi 's investigative antennae perked up. She loved digging for money, ever since she was a kid checking the couch for loose change.

"So you'll do it? Jiraiya knows absolutely everybody and can get you on the fast track if he recommends you to his friends. And you know you can bill him a bundle."

Jiraiya would probably expect her to bill a respectable hourly consultant fee. She wouldn't gouge him, but she could legitimately bill more for doing the audit on the sly, and probably expert witness fees as well if it became a matter for the courts. Although she'd worked her way through school and had no student debt, she did have obligations. "I'll listen to what his representative says. Did he say who that is?"

"No names were mentioned, just that he was one of Jiraiya's protégés and totally trustworthy."

Kyuubi snorted and Sugar giggled. Men were so naive. Nobody was totally trustworthy, especially when large sums of money were concerned.

"I WOULD HAVE BEEN happy to come to your office, Jiraiya." Naruto Uzumaki leaned over the small table to shout into his elderly friend's ear over the pulsing rock music. "Or your condo." Penthouse, rather, overlooking Lake Michigan and the rest of the city. Jiraiya had an entire floor in Lakenheath Towers, one of Chicago's most exclusive buildings.

But Jiraiya preferred a different kind of penthouse—the kind with naked women in it. "And miss the lunchtime show at Frisky's? At my age, I can't stay awake for the evening show." He cackled and gestured expansively to the nubile chicks cavorting above them on the runway. One flipped over and slid down a pole using just her thighs, and Naruto winced. He'd never figured how they did that without friction burns, but probably some trick of the trade involving baby powder.

It wasn't as if he were a stranger to these places, having worked his way through grad school as Jiraiya's driver/personal assistant, but he did his best to ignore the buffet of female flesh literally spread in front of him. He wasn't there for a lap dance—not that Jiraiya would mind if he did partake.

Although the lunchtime dancers weren't quite the A-string team in their G-strings, Jiraiya didn't care. With his overtipping, he was the life of the party. "Here, sweetheart, this is for you." He slipped a fifty into the nearest girl's garter.

Naruto tried to stop him, not because Jiraiya had to watch his pennies, but because the other girls spotted Ulysses S. Grant's bearded scowl and flocked to Jiraiya like seagulls on a leftover sandwich. The other customers grumbled as all the entertainment clumped around the oldest and richest patron in the club.

Jiraiya passed each of them a fifty, accepting their coos and cheek pinches. Of course the old reprobate knew them all by name.

Naruto checked his watch. He'd do about anything for Jiraiya, but sitting in a titty bar wasn't the best use of his time. Besides, Naruto's fashion designer sister Ino still occasionally made costumes for her stripper friends here and would give him hell if she caught him. Something about being a hypocrite for complaining how she had put herself through school sewing specially designed outfits for the dancers. Time to move this meeting along.

Naruto raised his voice and gestured at the disgruntled mob across the runway. "Okay, girls, thanks for visiting, but we have business to discuss."

His meaning was clear. Naruto figured his blond bulk helped put the point across. The dancers slinked off, Jiraiya staring wistfully after them, his white hair mussed and cheeks marked with five different sets of lip prints.

"Naruto, Naruto, Naruto, my boy. There is no business so urgent that one must disappoint the ladies."

Naruto, wanted to say that the ladies were only disappointed by not getting another fifty in their garters, but kept his comments to himself. "On the phone, you said this was urgent."

Jiraiya sighed, his shoulders drooping. "I did invite you here for a reason—besides the entertainment. This was one of the only places I go where I am reasonably certain that none of my staff attend."

Naruto nodded in agreement. Uchiha Brothers was, to put it charitably, a traditional financial organization. Hidebound and stuffy were other less charitable descriptions. But despite its moldy-oldie air, it had an impeccable reputation. Jiraiya was still the chairman of the board despite his semiretirement. "What's up, Jiraiya?"

His friend leaned in. "I think one of my executives is stealing from the funds entrusted to us by some of our oldest and most vulnerable clients."

That jolted Naruto out of his complacency. "The trust funds?" Uchiha Brothers managed money for the richest families in the nation, not just Chicago.

Jiraiya nodded, misery apparent on his quivering lip. "It might even be Sasuke."

"Sasuke? Your Sasuke?" Sasuke Uchiha was Jiraiya's grandson and a total prick, but Naruto had never figured him for a thief. "But he's the chief financial officer. Why would Sasuke steal from his own company? Doesn't he make over ten million a year?"

"It may not be the money, Naruto. Sasuke's always blamed me for his father's death." Jiraiya sighed. "As if I ever had any control over Fugaku. Reckless, foolish boy. I thought having a son of his own would settle him, but sadly that was not to be."

Naruto blew out a long breath. For Jiraiya this wasn't only professional, it was personal. Damn. "Who else knows about this?"

"I asked a friend for advice. She's very savvy and gave me the name of a forensic accountant who can audit the accounts, if it comes to that."

"Can you trust this friend of yours not to blab?"

"Of course. Sugar Jones and I have been dear, dear friends for years." Despite his low mood, Jiraiya managed to leer convincingly.

"Sugar Jones?" Naruto fought back a groan. Sugar's mind was one giant business plan. She probably knew to the penny how much money Jiraiya had stuffed into her garter over the years. Plus compounded interest.

"You know her?" Whoops, now Jiraiya was getting territorial on him, like a miniature white poodle protecting a favorite squeak toy.

Naruto held up his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "Purely business. She models for my sister's lingerie company."

"Lovely!" Jiraiya beamed, his face crinkling into a map of wrinkles. Friends again. "I'll have to get her to model for me."

Naruto figured modeling lingerie was more clothing than Sugar usually wore. "Jiraiya, what do you want me to do?"

"Welcome aboard, you're my new controller-in-training."

Naruto's jaw dropped. "But you already have a controller. Do you think he's involved in the missing money?"

"Kakashi? No, of course not. He's wanted to retire for some time now but hasn't found a successor to his liking. Now he has."

Naruto nodded. Kakashi would do whatever Jiraiya wanted. After all, Jiraiya was still the boss.

"You're between consulting jobs, correct?"

As usual, Jiraiya's sources were accurate. "I do have some downtime." But he planned on sleeping in for once in his life, seeing the sights of Chicago and getting laid. Not necessarily in that order.

A pretty brunette swiveled by, her legs going for miles and her long hair playing peekaboo with her firm brown nipples. She caught Naruto's eye and tossed her hair back to reveal a killer pair of high, round tits.

Jiraiya nudged him and passed him a fifty. "On me, dear boy."

Naruto demurred but Jiraiya insisted, and Naruto found himself offering the bill to the stripper, who wiggled her hips to sit on her high heels. He slipped the money into her garter, his finger skimming across her firm thigh. She ran her tongue around her lips and blew him a sultry air kiss. "Later," she mouthed and moved off when no more tips were forthcoming.

"I think she likes you!" Jiraiya crowed.

Naruto rolled his eyes. Of course she liked him, or rather liked Jiraiya's money. He shifted uneasily on the chair and adjusted his pants. Dammit, the naked girls were finally starting to get to him.

He gave the brunette stripper's ass one last wistful gaze and turned to Jiraiya. He owed the older man a great deal, and now was the time to pay him back. Maybe it would be a quick task to find the thief and then Naruto could get to his personal business. "Okay, Jiraiya. Tell me everything you know and how to get in touch with Sugar's friend."

Jiraiya's shoulders slumped with relief and his brown eyes misted over. "Thank you."

Naruto sighed and flipped open his BlackBerry. "You might not thank me if it turns out to be Sasuke."

Jiraiya shook his head firmly, the fun-loving roué replaced by the hard-nosed businessman. "No one steals from Uchiha Brothers and gets away with it. Especially not an Uchiha."

Kyuubi ANSWERED her ringing phone. Good thing Sugar hadn't convinced her to play hooky after treating her to lunch at the bistro around the corner. "Hello?"

"Kyuubi Davis, please."

"Speaking." But just barely. The deep masculine voice on the other end of the phone was making her speech processes a bit fuzzy.

"My name is Naruto Uzumaki, and some mutual friends suggested we get in contact."

Ah, yes, Jiraiya's lieutenant. Geez, he was making it sound like a blind date setup. Although if he looked as good as he sounded…back to the cloak-and-dagger stuff. "How sweet of them." She leaned heavily on the word sweet to see if he was quick enough to understand.

"Sweet as Sugar, if you can afford it."

She smiled at his dry tone. He'd probably met Sugar before, especially if he was a personal friend of Jiraiya. "And you can't afford it?"

"There are certain things a man doesn't need to pay for."

Kyuubi sat back in her chair and fanned her face. How true. She was about ready to give it up for this guy and she'd only been talking to him for thirty seconds. For the sake of her now-staid, CPA self, she hoped he was married, twice her age or gay. Or bald. No, bald would be fine as long as he kept talking. Well, somebody needed to keep talking. She realized their conversation had tapered off into a long, awkward pause while she'd been panting over him.

He seemed to realize the sensual bent of his words and hastened onward. "I'd like to meet with you to discuss this project. Where would be good for you?"

She could think of several places where Uzumaki Naruto might be good for her but shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind. "You're more than welcome to come to my office."

"I'd rather we met in a social setting. This is quite sensitive material and I don't want to be seen visiting an accountant's office."

"Sure, I understand. Let's meet at the coffee shop a few blocks from my office." She gave him directions to her favorite place.

"Sounds great. How about three o'clock?"

"Today?" It was already past one.

"Definitely. I want to meet you as soon as possible."

Woof. Down, girl. "All right, three o'clock. How will I know you?" Now it really sounded like a blind date.

"I have a white shirt and red tie on today."

Yawn. So did every other businessman in the city. "What, no rose in your lapel?" Oops, her smart mouth went off again.

"No, I'll have it between my teeth." His deadpan comeback startled her into laughter. "How will I know you?"

"I have brown hair in a bun, a brown suit and glasses." Boy, that sounded boring. She frowned at her outfit. No time to go home and change. Oh, well. She was near the end of tax season and didn't have much clean laundry anyway.

"Okay, Kyuubi. I'll see you at three."

"See you, Naruto." She hung up and drummed her nails on the desktop. No time for a manicure, either, noting her buffed natural fingertips.

Oh, well. It wasn't as if she needed stripper nails like Sugar's anyway.

-End of chappie 1-

A/N: Sugar is actually Hinata. I gave her the name Sugar 'cos I like it. Kyuubi's other name will be cherry. Don't worry, you'll see!

My hand hurts so I've got 2 go now.

Sorry 4 all typo's and pls read and review!

BYE!


	2. Chapter 2

Kyuubi PUSHED through the bakery door and dangled her wet umbrella over the mat. A spring squall had broken over the city after her intriguing phone conversation and had driven rain under her umbrella, spattering her glasses and pulling damp strands of hair loose to straggle along her cheeks.

She probably looked like something the cat dragged in, but after all, accountants didn't get paid for their hairdos, just what was under it.

The teenage girl behind the counter greeted her with a slight Polish accent. Yum, she loved Eastern European bakeries. None of that low-fat, high-fiber, no-taste nonsense.

Maybe one treat. Since she was sitting at her desk more and more, she had to be careful of her carb intake. Hmm, chocolate chip cookies, donuts, sweet rolls, apple crisps and—ooh, cherry tarts. With a delicious sense of irony, she ordered the tart and a skinny latte.

She put her change in the tip jar and carried her coffee and sweet to a table on the side wall, where she could watch the door without being in its direct line of sight. A tall potted plant blocked her a bit, but she'd manage.

She placed a napkin on her lap and carefully bit into the tart, the flaky crust breaking apart on her tongue. The cherry filling was better than the usual canned pie filling, with vanilla and almond extracts mixed in. Delish. She really needed to treat herself more often. After all, a few extra minutes—or hours—on the elliptical trainer would take care of it.

Not quite three o'clock. Kyuubi'd have time to finish her tart and get down to business with Jiraiya's buddy, Naruto. The bell over the glass door chimed, and she peeped though the leaves like Sheena, Queen of the Jungle, sizing up her prey.

Rowrrr. A big blond guy walked in, black trench coat dripping on the floor mat. He flipped his wet hair off his forehead and wiped his eyes. Kyuubi couldn't exactly tell at this distance, but she guessed they were probably blue. He had the total Nordic-god, lusty-viking-raider look going on, probably several inches taller than her own five foot eleven and three quarters.

He ordered a drink and took his change with a ring-free left hand, promptly dropping the coins into the tip jar. Not a cheapskate. Then he smiled at the girl behind the counter, and dimples popped up in his cheek. She blushed and stammered, and Kyuubi shifted in her seat. Come on, open that trench coat. She wanted to see if he had a gut like other big guys often did.

As if he'd heard her mental begging, he undid his coat buttons. No way. No way. The trim blond hunk wearing a white shirt and red tie couldn't be Jiraiya Uchiha's right-hand man. She'd imagined some older guy in his forties or fifties who just happened to have a voice as sexy and sinful as dark chocolate. This guy was some coffee junkie popping in for his afternoon fix. As if he'd felt her astonished stare, he turned to meet her eyes. Kyuubi froze, hunter becoming the prey as he stalked toward her through the coffee shop. For a big guy, he moved easily through the maze of tables with a loose-hipped stride.

He stopped next to her table and stared at her. His eyes were blue, after all—cool blue like a spring sky. "Is this seat taken?"

As one final test, she raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. Do you have a rose?"

He grinned. "Sorry to disappoint, but it's impossible to drink coffee with a stem between my teeth."

Bingo. "Naruto Uzumaki?" She stood and had the unusual sensation of looking well up into a man's face. A welcome change from having short guys staring into her cleavage. "Kyuubi Davis."

"Pleased to meet you." He set his coffee on the table and enfolded her hand in his own large one. Her fingers, almost always chilly, tingled as he warmed them. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."

Just long enough to get herself all hot and bothered. "Not at all. It was nice to get out of the office for a break. I usually push myself pretty hard."

"Me, too." He released her hand, and she missed his warmth. "Mind if I sit?"

"Be my guest." She nodded at the seat across from her. He sat on the small wooden chair, testing his size on it first before settling all the way. It looked like a child's chair under him. "Cherry tart?"

"What do you mean?" Sugar hadn't told Jiraiya about her, had she? She promised she wouldn't.

He gestured at her pastry. "I see you like cherry tarts."

"Oh. Yes." No reason to get defensive. "They're my favorites."

"Mine, too. I grew up on a dairy farm in Wisconsin, and we have several cherry trees in the orchard. My mom makes the best cherry jam, pies, tarts, you name it."

"I don't think I've ever had fresh cherry pie." She'd mostly grown up on snack pies her mother had brought home from the convenience store.

"You don't know what you're missing. The fruit explodes on your tongue, a bit tangy at first, but then mellowing into pure sweetness."

Kyuubi tried not to gape at him. My God, the man should be narrating erotica audiobooks. Cherries exploding into pure sweetness on his tongue? She really, really wanted to see that tongue in action. "You sound like you miss it. Would you like some of mine?" She pushed her plate toward him.

"Oh, no, I couldn't eat your sweets on you."

Oh, yes, he could. "Really, go ahead. It's a big tart." And so, apparently, was she. Old habits died hard.

He smiled at her the way he'd smiled at the teenage counter girl. Friendliness, but nothing more. "Just a small taste."

She didn't want friendliness. She wanted him to feel the same achy awareness that he was stirring in her. And during tax season, of all times. "Take as much as you want. Big men like you have big appetites."

He gave a quick blink at that statement, but broke off half the tart and took a bite with white teeth that had obviously received above and beyond the recommended daily allowance of dairy products. "Mmmm, not as good as Mom's, but still delicious."

"Isn't it?" She swirled her finger through the cherry filling and slowly sucked it clean. He sipped his coffee, the only hint of interest a slight flaring of his nostrils.

Good grief, the only way she could be any more obvious was if she unbuttoned her boring, off-white blouse and flashed him her rack. But she did admire self-control. Such a rare quality in a man.

Naruto DRANK his coffee, hoping his rain-dampened hair would mask the fact that he'd started sweating at the sight of Kyuubi sucking cherry filling off her finger. "So about the project."

"Yes." She flipped open her leather-bound notepad, all business now. "Tell me what's going on."

He quietly filled her in on Jiraiya's suspicions of his grandson and she nodded as she took notes. "I see," she began. "The subject of your investigation is the chief financial officer who has access to pretty much every account in the company, but other people obviously have access as well."

"Yeah, that's right."

"And you? Do you have access to those accounts?" She gave him a hard stare. "Any girlfriends who work there and have access to those accounts?"

He grinned. She was no fool. But if he were the thief, he would never hire a sharp cookie like her. "No, no girlfriends who work there. I've never worked there before and have had absolutely no access to any of their funds. I will as soon as I start as acting controller, but if you take the job you'll be able to look over my shoulder and keep me on the straight and narrow."

"I was wondering how you were going to get me in. Or can you download the accounts for me to look at off-site?"

"No, you'll have to do the audit on-site. It might tip the thief off if I come on board as controller-in-training and start taking specific account information home right away."

"So I'll come in after hours and audit?"

"Not exactly." Naruto took a deep breath. "Jiraiya suggested you work at the company as my executive assistant."

She looked as if she'd swallowed a cherry pit. "You want me to be your secretary?"

"My executive assistant," he corrected, knowing semantics were futile.

"Ha. Big difference." She crumpled her napkin and tossed it on the table.

Not good. If she turned him down, he'd have to find another reputable accountant, delaying Jiraiya's peace of mind even further. "The audit is your first priority. Believe me, I'm not going to send daily memos or write the company's annual report." "That would be fun. 'Dear esteemed clients of Uchiha Brothers, please disregard any minor discrepancies in your holdings. We are working diligently to discover which of our trusted executives has his or her hand in the till. Sincerely, the management.'"

He laughed. Sure, it was an awful situation, but her humor helped lighten things.

Kyuubi's regretful expression was obvious. "I'd really like to help you, but I don't think it would work. I've met Sasuke Uchiha several times at financial networking events. I doubt he'd recognize me immediately, but he would if I spent all day in his office for several weeks."

"Damn." Naruto frowned. He hadn't considered that. Leaning back in his chair to give the situation some thought, he immediately straightened when one of the legs creaked ominously. Coffeehouse chairs were either made for skinny city guys who subsisted on caffeine alone or women like the one sitting across from him.

Hmm. Under that bulky brown jacket, her tucked-in white blouse revealed a slender waist and her long skirt showed some firm calves, if not her thighs.

She cleared her throat and his gaze flew to her face. Instead of the demure blush he expected at his less-than-subtle examination, she merely looked sardonic. "Did you get a good look?"

Not hardly, but he wasn't going to say that. "Don't take this the wrong way—" "Oh, I love it when men start a sentence with that disclaimer."

"Okay, okay." He backed off. "What I was going to ask, have you usually worn outfits like that when you met Sasuke Uchiha?"

"No, he took me to prom. Of course, he's seen my work clothes." She peered over her glasses at him as if he were an idiot, but he forged onward.

"What if you had different clothes?"

"What?"

"Not accountant clothes—younger, lighter outfits."

"More…revealing?" Her voice dipped into the husky range. She brushed her fingers over her blouse's top button and unfastened it. She crossed her legs under the glass-topped table and hiked her skirt to her knee. She'd uncovered maybe three inches of skin in total, but Naruto still found it arousing. She leaned forward, her attention totally on him. "Naruto, do you want me to play dress-up for you?"

"More like a makeover," he managed to say, wondering where the sex-kitten persona had come from.

Just as quick as he wondered, she switched back to frowning CPA. "A makeover? Who do you think you are? Pygmalion? Professor Henry Higgins? The guys from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?"

"Hey! I meant disguise, not makeover."

"Uh-huh."

"You know, like wearing contacts instead of glasses, maybe letting your hair down, wearing less brown…" His voice trailed off into a silent sigh. He'd handled this situation with all the finesse of the farm-fresh hayseed he used to be—or even worse, his dad's bull Caesar. "Look, I'm sorry. I understand if you don't want to take this job after this awkward beginning, but if you do want it, it's yours, disguise or no."

Her eyebrows pulled together. "You don't know me, and you're trusting me with such a big project."

"I did check you out."

"You did? And what did you find?"

"I verified your credentials, lack of criminal record, the basics."

"Ah." She nodded, relaxing the tiniest bit.

Had he missed something? His P.I. had done a routine check on her. Then he looked at her calm expression and decided to drop it. Maybe she'd gotten into trouble as a teenager, records he didn't have access to. Unless she'd done juvie time for embezzlement, he didn't really care. "And Sugar's recommendation carries a lot of weight. That woman is a walking financial calculator."

Instead of reassuring her, she frowned again. "How do you know Sugar?"

Ah, she was probably wondering if he was one of Sugar's lap-dance clients. "Not from her work, at least not directly. She models for my sister Ino's lingerie line."

She grinned. "Oh, yes. 'Bras by Ino.'" "Yeah. That's it." Silly fake-French marketing ploy, but sales were taking off.

"I'll have to look for some of her designs when I'm shopping. For my makeover."

It took him a second. "You mean you'll do it? That's great!"

She raised a slim hand. "Don't get all excited yet. Jiraiya Uchiha is going to pay me big-time."

"Hey, he wouldn't expect anything less." Jiraiya was used to paying women lots of money.

Her next words proved she knew Jiraiya's habits as well. "I don't accept cash, especially tightly rolled fifties. He can write me checks at the beginning, middle and end of the audit, with additional billing if I get involved in legal proceedings."

"And he'll pay for any clothing you may need to do the job."

She raised an eyebrow. "A clothing allowance? Maybe I will get one of your sister's pricey bras. Sugar says they're so comfortable, you practically feel naked."

A naked Kyuubi? Images of Kyuubi undressed like the brunette stripper from Frisky's tumbled around his head. He never mixed business with pleasure, and Jiraiya's business was important. Naruto didn't need to ask himself what was wrong—he already knew.

"Naruto?" Her questioning voice broke into his confusion. "Here, take a napkin before your pants get stained."

"What?" He looked in horror at the paper napkin she offered him. Sure, she was turning him on, but he wasn't even close to staining anything. With an exasperated sigh, she dropped the napkin on the table in front of him and soaked up a puddle of coffee. "Your cup is leaking."

"Oh." He didn't realize he'd crumpled his paper cup while imagining her naked. He grabbed more napkins and mopped the mess. Lucky he'd almost finished his coffee. "So, Kyuubi. Tax season is almost over. When can you start working at Bingham Brothers?"

"April fifteen is next Wednesday. After that, I need a couple days off to shop and catch up on my sleep. I've been getting by on four or five hours a night, and I want to spend all day in bed if I feel like it."

Boy, did he feel like spending all day in bed with her. He nodded brusquely. "Will the following Monday work for you?"

"Monday, it is."

"Good. I'll courier over a check for your advance and clothing allowance, and I'll expect you at 8:00 a.m. sharp at Bingham Brothers. Wear your new clothes."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, sir, Mr. Uzumaki. I'll practice my shorthand over the weekend in case you want to give me your dictation."

Man, did she have to use that word? "Not necessary." He passed her his business card. "My cell number's on the front. Call me with any questions."

"I think I have an idea of what you need."

He sincerely hoped not.

She stood, shimmied her skirt to midcalf and picked up her raincoat. He rose and they shook hands again. "I'll leave first. We don't want to be seen together."

"Good idea." He felt foolish about the cloak-and-dagger stuff but that didn't keep him from admiring her ass as she strolled away. Her plain brown pumps had enough of a heel to add just the right amount of wiggle, and the watery sunlight lit the strands of caramel-colored hair that escaped from her bun. She paused before opening the door and looked over her shoulder to catch him staring. He gave a feeble little wave and her lips curved in a small smile.

Then she pushed out the door and disappeared among the busy pedestrian traffic.

Naruto exhaled loudly. Had Kyuubi been trying to arouse him on purpose? If so, she'd done a good job. Talking about his big appetites hadn't helped any, either. He did have big appetites, and not just for fine food, but for fine women.

But now he had the sneaking suspicion that he could eat a whole can of cherry filling off another woman's naked body, and that wouldn't have the same impact on him as the sight of Kyuubi 's pink tongue licking her finger clean. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

-end of 2-

Another 1 done.

Cassexy, out!

R and R, please!


End file.
